


Don't Pretend You Don't Like It

by crywolf



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Oh yes, shota!dirk, the classic tale of the older brothers best friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:59:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crywolf/pseuds/crywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dirk Strider and you most definitely have the hots for your older brother’s friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Pretend You Don't Like It

**Author's Note:**

> Dirk's POV.
> 
> This was meant to be a one-shot, but now I've decided to make it two. This first chapter is clean, but the next one is going to be all smut. You don't have to read chapter 2 if you're not into that, though. This chapter is readable as a fluffy one-shot. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Basically I saw bararito's shota Dirk art and my hand slipped. Whoops.  
> \---  
> http://bararito.tumblr.com/post/55744304215/okay-so-what-if-bro-was-the-shota-y-y  
> http://bararito.tumblr.com/post/55751834690/here-is-some-more-shota-dirk-and-a-process-video  
> http://bararito.tumblr.com/post/56197458466/shota-dirk-hanging-with-his-nii-san-and-his-friend  
> \---
> 
> Also, for anyone who is waiting for me to update A Little Southern Hospitality, I promise I'll do it soon! I just got caught up in this au. I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Dave’s new university friend, John, has been spending a lot of time hanging out at the apartment lately. You can’t say you mind all that much. Although you wouldn’t describe yourself as a very social person outside your group of internet pals, your “quarantine yourself in your room until the visitor leaves” tactic seems less appealing with John around. It’s something about that big goofy smile and inviting blue eyes that draw you in. Not that those toned arms and tight ass aren’t part of the equation. Your name is Dirk Strider and you most definitely have the hots for your older brother’s friend.

At the present moment, John is sitting on the couch watching Ghostbusters 2. It must be on tv because Dave sure as hell didn’t torrent that piece of shit. Unless it was ironically. Either way, you can’t ask him because he left about 5 minutes ago when he got called into work at the last moment. He had told John that he was welcome to stay if he wanted because he felt shitty about ruining their plans – something like playing Halo for several hours straight and eating copious amounts of crap food, probably. But now that Dave was gone, it was just you and John in the apartment, leaving you the perfect opportunity to get friendly with the older man.

“Yo,” You say as you flash-step into the living room. You notice John jump in surprise. Of course, he wasn’t nearly as shocked as the first time you’d done it, but you loved the way his eyes went wide and his body tensed up.

“Hey, kiddo,” He laughs, leaning back into the sofa and relaxing again. “Uh, sorry, did you want the tv? I can get going if you-“

“Nah. S’cool. I don’t mind having some company.” You sit down, keeping your head turned towards him so he knows your eyes are fixed on him from behind your shades.

“Oh,” he chuckles, noticing your gaze. “Did you want to change the channel?” He offers you the remote and you shake your head. You can tell he’s confused as to why you’re watching him so intently. He probably thinks you want something from him. He’s not wrong about that.

After another moment, something dawns on him. “Shit, I guess Dave forgot about dinner, huh?” He scratches the back of his head. “I could cook you something if you like? Jeez, I don’t know if you guys have much here for me to make into something edible, though. I could, uh… Order a pizza or something?”

“I’m not a kid, y’know.” You answer, raising an eyebrow. This isn’t the first time Dave’s forgotten to feed me. I haven’t starved to death yet, so obviously I can manage just fine.”

He gives you an apologetic look and you’re not sure if it’s for implying that you couldn’t take care of yourself or the fact that Dave forgets about you regularly.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just… Well, if I’m hanging around anyways, I might as well get us some grub.” He gives you a warm smile and you can’t help but return it with a subtle one of your own.

“Sure.”

“So what do you want? As long as it’s delivery because I really don’t want to have to leave this couch for longer than necessary.”

“What about Chinese?” You pass him the menu from the stack of cinderblock that functions as a coffee table.

“Good choice,” he agrees. “You a fan of honey garlic chicken?”

He continues discussing option and you scooch closer to him, pretending to read the menu. You breathe onto his shoulder and watch as a flush spreads across his skin. You wonder how far it goes down. He doesn’t shy away from your touch as your chest brushes the back of his arm. If you could see your face right now, he’d know by your smirk that your actions were entirely purposeful. “Whatever you want.”

“Right, yes.” He says, clearing his throat. “I’ll go order, then.” When he returns to the couch after ordering, you’ve already seated li’l Cal at one end of the couch and you’ve moved to the centre, giving you an excuse to sit close to John. He lets you pick the movie so you put on Black Beauty (“Wait, do you actually like this movie or is it one of your and Dave’s dumb irony things?” “Shut up, I’ve seen the kinds of movies you think are good and you have no right to judge anyone.”) and you turn out the lights. Half an hour in there’s a knock at the door. John pays the delivery boy and you eat straight out of the boxes. You talk loudly over the movie with your mouths full and jokingly nudge each other with your elbows. You have to say, you kinda get what Dave sees in the guy. He’s almost the polar opposite of your bro. Dave, much like you, is tanned and blond, with light freckles across his skin. You Striders have long, slender bodies and an elegance in your movements. John, on the other hand, is pale and dark-haired, and although he is pretty thin, his shoulders are broad. But the differences are not only in appearance. Where Dave is ironic and stoic, John is genuine and emotive. He’s charming and fun and handsome. Part of you wishes he were your age instead. Another part of you likes it better this way.

After the movie, John rounds up the garbage from dinner. When everything’s cleaned up, he hovers uncertainly by the door, as if he can’t decide if he’s overstayed his welcome.

“Why don’t you pick the next one?” You suggest. He visibly relaxes at your reassurance. He picks Next, a Nic Cage flick, and though you don’t argue, you make sure he knows just how much this movie blows.

“Fuck you!” He blurts out, hands coming up to cover his mouth a second too late. “Shit, sorry! Bluhhh… Just pretend I didn’t say that.”

“I’m not a fucking nun, Egbert. Are you forgetting who I live with? Jesus Christ.”

His face softens again. “Yeah, I can’t imagine Dave going more than a few sentences without casually dropping an f-bomb.” Things are comfortable between you again, though you can tell he’s still a little on edge. You don’t comment. You do, however, continue to insult the acting and point out the many plot holes throughout the film. He tries his best to defend it, but by the end you both know you’ve won.

“I should probably get going…” He says as the end credits begin to roll. He looks over at you like he wants you to agree so he has a reason to leave because it’s nearly midnight and Dave left hours ago. Dave works as a part-time DJ – among other jobs – and his gigs rarely end before 3am. You likely have another 5 hours before you can expect him home. For now, you had John all to yourself and you sure as hell weren’t letting him get away that easily.

You toy with the idea of convincing him to stay for another movie and then pretending to fall asleep against him. Maybe he’d feel bad letting you sleep on the couch when he’d go to leave and instead carry you to your room. You would loop your arms around his neck as he tries to lay you in your bed, dragging him down with you. You imagine the surprised look you’d get as he holds himself over you, hands on either side of your head, trying to keep himself from falling onto you. You’d grab the collar of his dumb t-shirt and pull him the rest of the way, kissing those soft, perfect lips.

While this is a great fantasy, it wasn’t at all practical. You didn’t want John thinking of you as a kid he had to take care of. You weren’t even sure he’d try to move you anyway. You were going to have to do something a little more forward.

John fidgets and watches the credits as if the most important part of the movie, obviously nervous under your intense stare. Not that you can blame him. You might be 6 years younger than him, but you know how intimidating you can be. You can make most of your teachers uneasy by just watching them from behind your anime shades with an unreadable expression. You had removed your shades halfway through the second movie because it was too dark, so your unshielded orange eyes must feel even more intense on him.

You get up from the couch and stretch, exposing your neck and letting your shirt rise up to show off a bit of skin. You know he’s watching. You turn your head to him and confirm your suspicions. He immediately turns away and looks around the room as if he had only glanced at you for a second during an inspection of the room. You flash-step in front of him and climb onto his lap. You feel his whole body tighten beneath you. He’s gaping at you, too shocked to form words. You lean in and kiss the very edge of his open mouth, sucking at the corner of his lips. When you pull back, you see wide blue eyes staring at you.

“W-what are you doing?” He sputters. You smile at how flustered he is. His cheeks are bright red and it makes him look even cuter.

“You had some soy sauce on your face.”


End file.
